


Gym Time

by Armoured_Swampert



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 01:52:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3272381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Armoured_Swampert/pseuds/Armoured_Swampert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Riptide finds understanding in a scary place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gym Time

Riptide examined himself in the mirror. Yep, he was all there. Every moulded edge, every fin. Constructed cold, cheap and strong. He opened his mouth, pulling the lips apart to examine his dental ridges. Their jagged form was a custom job, a gift he had bought himself for surviving his birth campaign, the Forced Flood of Simanzi. Individuality was hard to find among CCs and MTOs, with only the smallest of differences at construction, just enough to satisfy the most basic of individuality rights without compromising combat proficiency. The constant changing of bodies was quite common among them, especially with those of the Seeker and Praxian crop.

          The gym was empty for once, which was nice. He needed the alone time. Riptide brought his hands down to his abdomen, venting slowly. He remembered what Drydock had said: “Venting cools the systems and speeds up the brain module. Learn to do it, and the body opens up its secrets.” Eyes closed and thumbs in palms, Riptide began his forms. Arms slowly cutting through the air, he closed his eyes and let the crystalocution  forms take over. _Forget everything_ , he repeated in his mind. _Swerve’s, the ship, everything._ His thoughts left him. Then, in the nothingness, his memories arrived to fill the gap.

          _I’m in a transport. There are a lot of mes packed in with me. We are all very scared. The doors open above surging tides, water turned black and purple with oil and energon. I fall (or am I pushed?) out the door. Somebody’s screaming._

_It’s me._

          Riptide grits his teeth as he feels the ship beneath him again. Eyes still closed, he continues. Again, another memory arrives.

          _Mare IV. Perimeter guard around the marine research complex. I’m on the water. My element. 513 metres away one of the filter-feeding arthropods comes up for air. It can’t harm me. No proper mouth. It must have spotted me, since it gibbers and then submerges. A shadow falls. I turn._

_There’s a worldsweeper in front of the sun._

_nonononotagain_

There was a long scraping noise, and Riptide squeaked as he suddenly returned the real world. Reflected in the mirror was the hunched form of Cyclonus, who had just gone over his sword with a whetstone. Sharp red eyes looked out of a sharper face at Riptide.

          “Am I disturbing you?” he said slowly in that gravelling Tetrahexian accent. Riptide’s face widened in horror. Cyclonus was by far the most terrifying person on the ship for Riptide (except for Brawn, whom had apparently been able to throw a vehicle-mode Cosmos at Overlord during his rampage, despite being able to headbutt Swerve without leaning down.).  In Swerve’s words, he was an “Unbeatable Warrior from Ancient Times”, and he was right. Riptide didn’t care that he had defended the Circle of Light from Star Saber. He didn’t care that he was the best friend of the ship’s unofficial mascot. He was just terrifying.

          “Duh, ah, n-n-no sir!” Riptide cried out. “Just doing my exercises, sir!” Cyclonus didn’t move from his spot.

          “Hm. Turn around.” said Cyclonus. Riptide did so. “Strange. I have no rank above you, and yet you call me sir and respond to my orders.”

          “Ah, well, just showing respect for my elders, si- Cyclonus!” yelped Riptide. Cyclonus made another pass with the whetstone.

          “Not much of that going around,” he murmured. “What were you doing? It seemed familiar.”

          “Ah, that was meditation-style crystalocution. I use it for calming myself. It, um, sometimes has the opposite effect.” Cyclonus held his gaze for a moment.

          “Crystalocution, of course. What battlefield was that…” He scraped his chin. “Oh, of course, the final day at the Melting Cascade. He was on the opposing side, and it was execution-style. Have you ever seen execution-style, Riptide?”

          “No,” said Riptide, curious.

          “It’s much faster than your little waves. I remember seeing the warrior, cutting his way through my men. Took me ten seconds to incapacitate him, which was a surprise. He begged, which was even more surprising.”

          “What did you do?” asked Riptide.

          “I let him go. He told me he was the last of his order or some such, and he wished to train an apprentice before he joined Mortilus.” Cyclonus looked Riptide in the eye, his voice slightly warmer. “It is good to see that I did not make a mistake.”

          Riptide was blown away. He was getting approval from _Cyclonus_. He gave a nervous smile, flashing his fangs in pride.

          “Th-thank you very much, Cyclonus!” he said quickly. “I’m, ah, just gonna go take a dip, if you don’t mind!” Cyclonus stared at him.

          “I don’t care,” he said, back to deadpan. Riptide sprinted off. He was slightly less afraid than before.

         

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! I've noticed there isn't enough of the best male boatbot on the ship (Nautica is amazing in her own right), so I tried to do something with a bit of backstory for him. I hope you liked it!


End file.
